My Brother's Keeper
by ForgottenPages
Summary: "[He] stood up straight and looked at himself in the mirror. He didn't notice that his eyes were red and swollen, or that his shirt was severely rumpled and partially untucked. His tie had been loosened and the top two buttons undone. But he didn't see any of that. All he saw was his greatest demon: the man who had shot his brother." NOW COMPLETE
1. ONE

**Disclaimer: I do not own Blue Bloods or any of the characters.**

* * *

Danny shoved his way into the hospital bathroom, stood before one of the sinks, and twisted the cold water on full blast. Cupping his hands, he filled them with the frigid liquid, leaned in and splashed it across his face. After repeating the process several times, he just stood, bracing his hands on either side of the sink, and simply stared at the drain as the water continued to pour down it.

A guy washing his hands at the sink next to him peered at the detective warily. "Tough night?" he asked, vague and awkward sympathy in his voice.

Danny didn't move, or even honor the question with sideways glance. "Yeah," he barely whispered.

The man grabbed a couple of paper towels on his way out of the bathroom, leaving Danny to himself.

Danny stood up straight and looked at himself in the mirror. He didn't notice that his eyes were red and swollen, or that his shirt was severely rumpled and partially untucked. His tie had been loosened and the top two buttons undone. But he didn't see any of that. All he saw was his greatest demon: the man who had shot his brother.

* * *

Jackie came into the hospital waiting room cautiously. Even though she and Danny were close, and she was acquainted with his family, she felt like an intruder. She quietly sat down next to Linda. "How's Jamie," she asked, her voice respectfully low.

Linda glanced up from the magazine she had been pretending to read. "We don't know. He's still in surgery."

"How's Danny?" was the next question that came. Jackie had been there when the shooting took place. She had seen the look of horror in her partner's eyes, the sickening disbelief, the unimaginable pain, the sheer panic. It had all been there, stark across the oldest Reagan brother's face.

"Not good," Linda replied. "He hasn't talked to anyone…about what happened." Linda was now staring at Jackie pointedly, silently requesting her side of the story.

Jackie sucked in her breath and let it out slowly. "It was wrong place, wrong time, pure and simple. Danny took a shot, the perp took a lucky dive, and the bullet hit Jamie. He'd run into the scene. We had no idea anyone else was there."

"This is like a horrible dream, a nightmare," Linda whispered, "I don't even know what to say to Danny, to comfort him."

"There isn't anything you can say," Jackie said. "Not yet. Maybe never."

Linda stifled a sob.

Jackie added gently, "And that isn't your fault, Linda. This is something Danny is going to have to come to terms with on his own. But what you can do is be there to support him. Be his rock, Linda, because he's gonna sink the lowest he's ever been."

"I know," Linda agreed, nodding vigorously.

Jackie glanced around at the other Reagans and noticed that one—besides Danny—was missing. "Where's the commissioner?" she asked.

Linda sighed. "He was out of state. Business trip or something like that. He's on his way back right now…"

"Can I do anything?" Jackie asked. "Do you guys need some food, or coffee, or anything?"

"We could use some food," Linda said, looking around at her in-laws. They had been in the hospital for hours, and none of them wanted to leave.

"I'll be back," Jackie said. She stood up, placed a reassuring hand on Linda's shoulder for a brief moment, then left.

* * *

Danny returned to the waiting room shortly after Jackie left. He sank into the chair next to Linda. "Anything?" he asked, even though he suspected that no news could have come from the doctor in his ten minute absence.

"No," Linda said. "How're you feeling?"

Danny shook his head. "This can't be happening, Linda. This can't really be happening."

Linda took his hand, tangling her fingers in his. "It is, Danny." She leaned against him, putting her head in the cook of his neck and shoulder. "But Jamie's strong. He's gonna make it. He's gonna be okay."

"And what if he's not, Linda?" Danny asked. "What if I killed my brother." His voice broke, and Linda felt warm tears seep into her hair.

"I don't know," she admitted, her throat constricting.

Linda glanced up to meet the gazes of Erin and Henry. Her boys and Nicki were staying with a friend of the family, so it was just the four of them. Though both had offered efforts of comfort to Danny, their attempts hadn't been the least bit successful. On top of that, they were both lost in their own grief, anxiously waiting to hear word from the doctor.

Linda could not even try to imagine what they were going through. She was heartsick for Jamie, and was praying desperately that he would come out of surgery alright; however, unlike the rest of the Reagans, Linda had only known Jamie for a few years comparatively. She had met Jamie when he was an independent teenager, trying not to drown in the sea of overprotective parents, grandparents, and three older siblings. This family had known him since the very moment he was born, squalling and entirely dependent on their love and care. Linda tried to imagine how she would feel if one of her sons were in that operating room, and the other son was devastated by his accidental actions; however, it was too painful to even think such a thing could become of Jack and Sean. Not her babies.

Erin's phone chirped and she glanced at it. "Dad's on his way from the airport," she said listlessly.

"That's good," Linda said when no one else commented. She sat up, but she didn't let go of Danny's hand. "Jackie's picking us up something to eat."

"That's sweet of her," Erin said.

Linda nodded. "Does anyone want a coffee? I know that the hospital stuff tastes like motor oil, but it's something hot."

"Sounds good to me," Henry sighed, and he tried to smile at his granddaughter-in-law.

Linda gave Danny a kiss before she stood up and stretched tiredly. She needed to take a walk, to get some fresh air…even if it was just different hospital air. The heaviness that ladened the room was suffocating.

"I'll call and check up on the kids, too," Linda added as she walked away. She pulled out her cell phone, made the quick call, and then continued down to the cafeteria.

* * *

TBC


	2. TWO

_Danny and Jackie had been on the Greg Morrison case for weeks. He had all but outright told them that he was guilty of murdering his wife, his girlfriend, and his girlfriend's boyfriend; yet, there was nothing but circumstantial evidence against him. To say that the detectives were frustrated with the case was a severe understatement. Then they got a call that their suspect had been seen going into a building where gunshots heard a few minutes later._

 _"_ _This guy's sick," Jackie remarked in disgust as they sailed down the streets in their car, Danny at the helm, weaving almost effortlessly through traffic. "Thrill of the kill, or something."_

 _"_ _We don't know if he's the shooter this time," Danny reminded her, "and frankly, I wouldn't mind if we did find him shot. Make it easier for us."_

 _"_ _They've got the building locked down," Jackie said, "It's an old warehouse. Hasn't been used in years."_

 _"_ _Has anyone gone in?" Danny asked._

 _Jackie shook her head. "No. They're waiting for us. The've got all the exits blocked, all we have to do is go in and pull Morrison, and whoever else is in there, out."_

 _"_ _Yippee," Danny retorted dryly._

 _Once they arrived, it was all routine. Bullet proof vests were put on, a general layout of the building glanced over, and a decision made on who was going where and when. They would go in through one door. Keep it simple. It was dark in there, and they didn't want any of the good guys on the wrong side of the building._

Danny couldn't remember what happened next, not exactly. He remembered catching Morrison in his flashlight beam. "Police, freeze!" he shouted. He saw the glint of a gun in Morrison's hand, and Morrison lifting it to aim at Danny. So Danny didn't hesitate to pull the trigger. In that split second, Morrison disappeared from view, and suddenly, there was someone else standing there, a beat cop. Danny's heart stopped, he was sure, in that moment. He couldn't stop the bullet from racing the distance between him and its new target.

He wasn't sure of the exact moment when he realized it was Jamie standing there. Maybe the beam of a flashlight slid past, glimpsing the young cop's face. But he knew it was Jamie when the cop stumbled back and fell.

 _"_ _Jamie!" Danny screamed. He didn't even look to see where Morrison had gone, he didn't hear the other gunshots, he didn't listen when Jackie called out to him. He was running towards his fallen brother, but the distance seemed to stretch for a hundred miles. He felt numb, adrenaline pounded in his ears._

 _Finally, he collapsed next to Jamie, searched for the entry wound and found it on the left side of his chest. Very close to the heart. Too close. Danny pressed his hands against the wound, blood creeping up between his fingers. "Jamie!" he shouted, "Jamie! Answer me, kid!"_

 _He didn't know how long it was that he knelt there, next to the unresponsive body of the victim of his gun. He didn't realize that someone had turned on the warehouse lights, that suddenly the entire room was lit, and he could clearly see the ashen face of his brother._

 _"_ _Danny, let go," someone said to him._

 _He shook his head. "No. No, I've got to keep pressure on the wound…I've got to keep him alive! Jamie! Jamie, wake up!"_

 _"_ _Danny, you've got to let the paramedics take over. Come here. They've got him, Danny." Someone touched his arm, then gripped it tightly and tugged, pulling him halfheartedly away from Jamie's body._

 _And suddenly, he was too weak to resist. The adrenaline abandoned him, allowing him to give way to the shock that had come the moment he'd realized he shot his brother. As he fell back, he started to sob, "I killed him. I killed my brother. I killed him."_

 _"_ _No, Danny, no. He's going to be fine. They're taking him to the hospital." It was Jackie. Of course it was Jackie. She was there, sitting next to him, an arm slung across his shoulders, a hand gently rubbing up and down his arm, trying to comfort him. "C'mon. I'll drive you," she said._

Danny didn't know who called his wife and family. It could have been anyone, but all he knew was that they were there, asking what happened, if he was alright. He couldn't answer because he didn't know what had happened. Not exactly.

* * *

"Dad!"

Danny looked up at Erin's exclamation, and there stood his father. He hadn't realized it until this moment that he had been dreading the meeting with him. It was to Frank Reagan he felt he owed an explanation to for what happened to his youngest son. Danny wanted to disappear, melt into the upholster of the chair he sat in. He did not want or expect the comfort of his father. He fully anticipated blame…because it was, indeed, his fault that Jamie was in that operating room this moment, fighting for his life.

Erin immediately got up and embraced her father. They spoke softly, Erin explaining what they knew and what was happening. Henry got up and joined them. But Danny didn't move. He watched them, waiting for the moment when their eyes would involuntarily turn to him.

He didn't have to wait long. It was only a few seconds before his father caught his gaze, and stared at him, as though evaluating Danny. Finally, he spoke up so that Danny could hear him. "How are you doing, son?" he asked.

There was no blame, no anger in that voice. Danny should have known his father well enough to realize that his father would never blame him for what happened to Jamie. He of all people would recognize the devastation of a tragic accident. But Danny was surprised, and struggled to speak through the painful lump forming in his throat. "I'm so sorry, Dad," he said.

"I know, son. I heard what happened, and it wasn't your fault. It was an accident."

Danny shook his head. "I shot my own brother, Dad," he said, his voice hoarse, "If I had been paying better attention to what was going on…none of this would have happened."

"Have you stopped to wonder what Jamie was doing back there?" Frank asked.

Danny furrowed his brow, surprised. "What?"

"As I understand it, there were orders not to be in the back of the building. So why did Jamie go against orders?"

"That's not the point, Dad," Danny argued.

Frank interrupted him. "There are two sides to this story, Danny," he reasoned. "We know what happened on your side. But we can't see the whole picture until we know the other side."

Danny just bent his head. For once, he did not want an argument. That always seemed to be his way. He always had to be right, even when he knew he was wrong. And if he was going to lose, he was not going to go down without a fight. That was usually his way, with his family. He wished he could be more humble, like Jamie, sometimes. Willing to accept his downfalls without defending them. But no. He was Danny. A hothead who often let his emotions guide his actions without thought of the consequences.

"Frank!" Linda's voice was drenched in relief, and Danny glanced up to see his wife embrace her father-in-law. "I'm so glad you're finally here," she said.

"Of all days to take a trip out of state," said Frank with a regretful sigh.

"Excuse me, are you the family of Jamison Reagan?"

Danny stood up at the sound of the doctor's voice. "How is he?" Danny demanded.

"He pulled through the surgery well. He's in recovery now," the doctor said. "We are very lucky the bullet missed the heart…it was only by a fraction of an inch."

"Thank God," Erin breathed.

"He is still in critical condition, but I believe he is going to be fine with a lot of time for healing."

Linda spoked up. "When can we see him?"

"Probably not for a couple more hours yet. We need to monitor him closely; however, I will send a nurse out to get you when we believe he is ready." The doctor smiled encouragingly. "I'll come back and update you soon."

"Thank you, Doctor," Frank said.

* * *

TBC


	3. THREE

_"_ _Have you shot anyone yet?"_

 _Danny glanced up from the sandwich he was making in his parents' kitchen. He had his own apartment, but sometimes, after a hard day, it was nice to come someplace familiar and family-filled. Jamie leaned against the island, his lanky, out-of-proportion, teenage body trying to look grown-up. It wasn't working. Jamie was still Danny's baby brother, always would be._

 _"_ _What kind of question is that?" Danny asked. He knew his mom didn't like the officers in the family to discuss police work with Jamie. It wasn't that she didn't respect and love her men in blue, but she had greater (that is, safer) hopes for Jamie._

 _"_ _An honest one," Jamie replied smoothly. "Have you?"_

 _Danny sighed. "Yeah, I have."_

 _"_ _Have you killed anyone?"_

 _"_ _No, and I hope I never do. Now, put away the mayonnaise for me, will ya?" Danny shoved the jar across the counter. "And stop asking me questions you know Mom'll have my head for answering."_

 _"_ _She doesn't have to worry about me becoming a cop," Jamie said, grabbing the mayo and swinging around to put it in the fridge, "I'm gonna be a lawyer."_

 _"_ _Law school, kid?" Danny smirked. "Sure you got the brains for all that bookwork?"_

 _"_ _Ha, ha." Jamie turned around and slugged Danny lightly in the arm. "Who do you think puts away of all those perps you guys cuff? It sure as heck isn't you."_

 _Danny snorted. "Aw, still can't say H E double hockey sticks?" he taunted._

 _Jamie blushed, but he tried for a snappy come back, "Neither can you…when Mom's around."_

 _"_ _You better not go tattling on me," Danny said, shoving into Jamie playfully._

 _A look of realization came over Jamie's face. "You changed the subject!"_

 _"_ _Of course I changed the subject," Danny said. "The last thing I want to do is bring that kind of stuff home with me to rehash with some punk kid."_

 _"_ _Who, me?" Jamie said innocently, but he smiled and let the subject go. "You gonna see Linda tonight?"_

 _"_ _Nah," Danny sighed, "she's working. Otherwise, I wouldn't be forced to be here hanging out with you, would I?"_

 _"_ _You love me," Jamie said, "admit it."_

 _Danny took a bite of his sandwich. "Never," he said._

* * *

Danny stepped into the hospital room. There was Jamie, his unresponsive form carefully arranged with tubes and wires and IVs. His skin had no color, as though all the blood had been drained from his body, which was almost true. The doctor said he had lost a lot of blood from the exit wound, so even though Danny had been applying pressure, it hadn't done much to help Jamie from losing a lot of blood.

"You've gotta be okay, Jamie," Danny said, but his voice was barely a whisper, more like a breath he dared to let escape his painfully cinched throat. "How can I ever forgive myself for doing this to you?"

There was a chair, next to the bed. Danny sat down. He considered taking one of Jamie's hands, letting Jamie's subconscious know he was there. They said that even unconscious people have some awareness. However, Danny saw that Jamie had some equipment latched onto his fingers and decided against hand-holding. He sighed. "What the hell were you doing behind Morrison, kid?"

Danny waited, as though he expected some answer, as though through the oxygen mask and tubes, Jamie could explain everything. Danny stared at Jamie's profile. It was funny. There wasn't much of a resemblance amongst the Reagan clan. It was as though there was enough genes in the pool to give everyone their own, unique twist.

"I don't know how he got out of the way," Danny continued after several long moments of silence, only broken by the sound of the equipment. "I swear, Morrison was _right there_ ," Danny pointed for emphasis, "his gun up, about to shoot. I beat him to it. I shot first, but then, he was gone. And," Danny's voice broke, "you were there. You shouldn't have been there, Jamie."

Danny massaged the bridge of his nose, trying to avoid the tears that sprung readily to his eyes. He was suddenly aware of another's presence in the room. He glanced up and saw Linda standing there, her hands hidden in her pockets. She looked like she was trying to make herself as small as possible, her shoulders tucked up, her head ducked forward. "Hey," she whispered, when she caught Danny's gaze.

"Hey," he said. "I thought they were only letting one of us back here at a time…"

"I snuck past the nurse," Linda said. "I just wanted to see how you were doing."

"Why didn't he become a lawyer? That was the plan." Danny sighed shakily. "I bet getting shot by his _own brother_ was the last thing he expected in the line of duty." He said it so forcibly, so hatefully towards himself. He saw Linda shudder.

"Don't say that," she said.

"Why?" he asked, "It's true, isn't it?"

"You didn't shoot your brother, Danny," Linda said, "he caught a stray bullet. You weren't aiming at Jamie, your target moved, and he was where he shouldn't have been, just like Frank said."

"My gun, my bullet," Danny hissed, "put him here."

"I can't understand what you're going through, Danny," Linda said, "I can't even begin to imagine, but doing this to yourself…it's not going to change what happened."

Before Danny could reply, the nurse came in and caught Linda. "Mrs. Reagan," she scolded gently, "you can't be in here."

"Ya, I know, I'm sorry," Linda said, but she did not sound like she meant it; however, she heeded the nurse's warning and left.

"Your brother's a strong young man," the nurse said to Danny, checking over the equipment and jotting down information on a clipboard.

"I know," Danny said, but he couldn't help thinking it might not be enough.

* * *

 _Jamie felt the gun press into his back. "You the detective's kid brother, aren't you?"_

 _He clutched the gun in his hand. "How'd you know my partner and I would respond to this call?" he asked. They'd gotten an anonymous tip that the petty thief they'd been after was in the area again. It wasn't particularly Jamie and his temporary partner, David Randle's, case or responsibility, but they happened to be closest._

 _"_ _I'm not some idiot, Reagan," the voice hissed._

 _"_ _Putting a gun to a cop's back is pretty idiotic," Jamie said. He was stalling, waiting for Randle to be done checking his area and come to find Jamie._

 _"_ _I'm not going to shoot you," the voice, a man, said. He laughed. "That is, unless_ you _do something stupid. Now, drop your gun and kick it against the wall."_

 _Jamie hesitated before complying. He wondered how long it actually took Randle to clear his area, and if Randle was actually being deliberately slow about it, or if it was the peril of the moment getting Jamie's mental clock out of whack._

 _"_ _Hey, Reagan," Randle's voice called, "nothing on my side!"_

 _Jamie cringed when the gun gouged him. "Turn around," the gunman said._

 _They turned, and Jamie saw Randle at the opening of the dead end alley. The beat cop stopped short of entering the alleyway. "How're you doing?" he asked cautiously._

 _"_ _Not too great," Jamie said._

 _"_ _Drop your gun, or I drop him," the gunman said._

 _Jamie tried to discreetly shake his head at Randle, but the rookie was already doing as he was told. The gunman laughed. "Good. Now, we're gonna do a little role play. I'm gonna ride in the back of your ride, with my gun, and you're gonna take me where I want to go."_

 _"_ _Not gonna happen," Jamie said firmly._

 _"_ _Oh, it's gonna happen, because if it doesn't happen, you're both dead. Clear?"_

* * *

 _Jamie pulled in front of an old warehouse. He had come up with a million ideas to try and tip someone off about them having Morrison; however, with Morrison armed, he didn't want to risk casualties. Jamie had known it was Morrison as soon as he turned and saw the gunman's face. He realized that Danny must be getting close to some solid evidence if Morrison was willing to try and pull off a hostage situation. Ultimately, Jamie decided the safest route to avoid injured civilians was to let Morrison have his way: an abandoned warehouse; however, he didn't like the plan whatsoever, and hoped he could somehow find a way out of it before either he or Randle were killed by the madman in the backseat._

 _"_ _Good boys," Morrison said pleasantly. Now, put your lights on and lets go inside and make ourselves comfortable."_

 _The warehouse wasn't entirely empty, but it was dark. Morrison knew his way around and guided Jamie and Randle to an old office with a glass window looking out over the inside of the warehouse. "Come on in, have a seat," Morrison said, as though he were having some friends over to watch the game._

 _"_ _Do you really think doing this is going to help your case, Morrison?" Jamie asked._

 _Morrison grinned. "Of course not," he said, "but it should be the more fun than just turning myself in."_

 _Jamie and Randle sat side-by-side on a small, low couch while Morrison sat in a swivel chair. He held his gun loosely. "I'm an honest man," he said, lifting the gun and looking at it as though it were some sort of toy, "so I want this call to be as close to the truth as possible…" Suddenly, he gripped the gun, aimed it directly at Jamie and Randle. Jamie felt himself flinch instinctively even before the shots fired. He counted them. One, two, three…then he waited for the pain. To his surprise, he felt nothing but the tingling numbness that came from an adrenaline rush._

 _"_ _You didn't think I'd actually_ shoot _you?" Morrison asked. "I'm not that cold hearted. I would have had the decency to warn you first."_

 _Jamie glanced over at Randle. His fellow officer was also unharmed by the bullets, though very shaken. His entire body trembled. Jamie looked over his shoulder and saw three bullet holes in the wall._

 _"_ _Now, here is a warning," Morrison said, "I'm gonna make a phone call, turn myself in, but if you make so much as a peep, I will shoot you both in the face. I hope we're clear on that."_

 _Jamie set his jaw, refusing to let the fear take over. He needed to stay clear headed if he wanted to get him and his partner out of this alive._

 _Morrison pulled out a cell phone and deftly dialed before putting the phone up to his ear. He waited a few moments, then smiled cruelly when someone answered. "Hello? Is this the police?" he asked frantically. The voice was so contrast to his facial expression that it made Jamie shudder involuntarily. "I saw him…that-that guy Morrison that's been in the news. I saw him go into this warehouse and then I heard a gun." Morrison paused, breathing heavily. "I-uh-three? Three shots? Maybe two…I don't know. No, I didn't see anyone else go in. The address?" Morrison rambled off the address, stuttering and gasping like a person in a panic. "No, I'm not giving my information. This is an anonymous tip," Morrison said. He hung up the phone and threw it over his shoulder. The phone shattered apart on contact with the cement floor._

 _"_ _How was my acting?" he asked, as though he wanted an honest review._

 _"_ _You don't have to do this, Morrison," Jamie said. His voice shook. He took a deep breath to steady himself. "Let us help you. We can all get out of this alive."_

 _"_ _But I don't want that," Morrison said, "I want to take out as many cops as I can…I want that detective to see his brother be shot before his eyes, and then I want to shoot every cop I can before they shoot me down."_

 _"_ _You just wasted three bullets on the wall," Randle spoke up._

 _Jamie subtly nudged Randle to shut up. At least, he hoped that's what Randle took it as._

 _"_ _You think this is the only gun I have? I have guns situated all over the place. I'm ready for a war, boys. I'm gonna be the next infamous legend."_

 _"_ _Why would anyone want to be infamous?" Jamie asked gently, "What about your kids?"_

 _"_ _I killed their mother. I think I'm already as good as dead in their eyes, don't you?"_

* * *

 _TBC_


	4. FOUR

Danny returned to the waiting room after a request was sent to him from his sister to give her a turn. He was met by Jackie. "How is he?" she asked.

"Don't know," Danny said. The doctors kept changing their minds. One moment Jamie was recovering splendidly, the next they were giving him something for something else. Danny wasn't good with the medical terms like Linda, who simply would nod and ask confusing questions only to get technical answers in response.

"We've got more on the Morrison story," Jackie said, "We think we know why Jamie was in that warehouse…"

" _Think_? What does that mean?" Danny asked.

"Jamie's partner, David Randle has just regained consciousness," Jackie said, "he isn't very coherent because of a severe concussion, but he's saying something about Morrison taking them hostage."

Danny's blood boiled. "Has anyone made Morrison talk?" he asked heatedly.

Jackie shrugged. "He's shut tight. Literally hasn't said a single word."

"When I get my hands on him, he'll…" Danny started.

Jackie shook her head. "No, Danny. You need to stay here. I'll keep you posted, but for now, an emotionally charged homicide detective is the last person we need interrogating Morrison."

Danny stiffened. "This is still my case. If I need to come down to the station to get the information we need, I'm going to do that," he said.

Jackie hesitated. "Fine, I just think it would be better if you hung around here…"

"No. If that S.O.B. had my brother, and if he is the reason that Jamie was shot, then he's gonna pay, and I'm gonna make sure he does."

* * *

Danny stood across from a seated Morrison. The man was sitting with his eyes trained on his folded hands, looking placid and emotionless as though he were sitting down for a morning cup of coffee and a paper to check the score on the game. He did not have the attitude of a man who had recently killed three people.

"Really?" Danny asked, "You have absolutely nothing to say? You don't even want to ask for a glass of water, or…I don't know…a steak dinner?"

Morrison didn't move. Danny was starting to wonder if the man was even breathing. Danny leaned forward. "Where's your lawyer, Morrison? Why don't you ask for that? Because you're sure as hell gonna need one."

No response.

Danny brought his hands down hard on the table, the sound even making Jackie shudder from the corner where she stood, watching. "Listen here, you freak," Danny growled, "Because of you, two cops are in the hospital, Morrison! And I know that doesn't affect a cold blooded killer like you, but you better believe that we're going to make you pay!" Danny was just inches away from Morrison's hardened, emotionless face.

But then, suddenly, it broke, and Morrison lifted his gaze to meet Danny's. "Your brother," he said calmly, a smile crawling across his face, "is in the hospital because you drove a bullet through his chest."

Danny didn't know what happened next until he was being dragged from the interrogation room by three officers, and he was fighting against them. "I'm going to kill him!" he seethed, "I'm going to kill him!"

"Danny, stop!" Jackie pleaded, her face coming into his vision. "You've got to calm down. Sit down, now! Danny, sit down!"

Danny did as he told, thudding into the chair that had appeared. The three officers lingered until Jackie told them to leave. She knelt before Danny, picked up one of his hands and showed it to him. His knuckles were bloody. "This is why you should have stayed at the hospital," she said softly.

"You heard what he said?" Danny asked. His voice shook and he realized he was crying.

"Yeah," Jackie said. She sounded angry. "Honestly, I would pounded him the same way if he'd said something like that to my face. But the fact is, we can't. Danny, the captain's going to take you off the case."

Danny didn't care. If he never saw that smug face again it would be too soon. He trusted Jackie to get the rest of the details, to put Morrison away for life. "I need to get back to the hospital," Danny muttered after a few moments.

Jackie nodded. "That's a good idea. I'll drive you, but first, let's get your hands cleaned up. After that, I'll take you home so you can get a change of clothes."

"Why?" Danny asked. "I changed just before I got here."

Jackie raised an eyebrow. "And then you bloodied up our suspect," she said, "and you've got a little of that all over you." She indicated with her hand. Danny looked down and saw that his shirt was spattered with blood. "The captain's going to have a long talk with you, and I'm guessing that the word 'talk' is putting it too nicely."

"Me too," Danny agreed, and for the first time in nearly twenty hours, he smiled.

* * *

"What happened to your hands!" was the first question that came when Danny returned to the hospital waiting room.

He tried not to look at his dad as he answered Linda, "I had a little alteration with a suspect."

"Was is Morrison?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"I shouldn't say," Danny replied. He dared to look at the commissioner at this point. As he suspected, his father had a knowing look on his face. Doubtless, he'd already received all the details on the 'little alteration'. Danny changed the subject, "How is Jamie?"

"Still unconscious," Linda said with a sigh. "Henry is sitting with him now. Erin went to check on the kids and get a nap."

"What about you?" Danny asked, for the first time noticing the exhausted features of his wife. Her entire form looked worn and depleted. "You should go, get a shower, get some sleep. I'll stay here."

"You need some sleep too," Linda argued.

"I wouldn't be able to sleep if I tried," Danny said.

Linda leaned up and kissed him. "I know. Do you want anything from the house?"

"I was just by there to change my clothes…because of the alteration."

Linda made a face. "You better not be getting yourself into trouble, Daniel Reagan," she said.

"Always," Danny replied.

He gave her one more kiss before she left. Then it was just him and Frank Reagan. The bulking man was standing at the window, looking out over the city. "I heard what happened," he said when Danny came to stand beside him.

"I suspected as much," Danny said.

Not another word was spoken until Henry came out to give Frank a turn at Jamie's beside.

* * *

TBC


	5. FIVE

_Police, freeze!"_

 _Danny's voice echoed against the metal walls of the warehouse. Jamie could see Morrison, gun in hand. Out the corner of his eye he saw Randle approaching Morrison from the side. "Randle, no!" Jamie wanted to shout, but everything happened in an instant. Morrison lifted his gun to shoot Danny, just as he'd promised, Danny stiffened, preparing to pull the trigger of his own gun in self-defense, Randle dove for Morrison, sending both of them out of Danny's clear shot. And then, Jamie felt it. It drove the breath from his lungs, he stumbled back. He could hear more gunshots, people shouting. He tried to keep his balance, he tried to find something to brace himself against. His vision tunneled._

 _"_ _Jamie! Jamie, answer me, kid!" Danny demanded._

 _He tried, but his body wouldn't cooperate. And then, as if the searing pain could become any worse, something pressed hard into his chest. "I've gotta keep pressure on the wound…"_

 _"_ _Danny, let go."_

 _"_ _Jamie…!"_

 _And then, Jamie gave into blissful unconscious._

* * *

Jamie woke up. He expected to see the ceiling of the warehouse towering over him, looming shadows and dancing flashlight beams. The sounds of gunshots and shouting still rang in his ears. However, when he stopped and actually stared and listened, all he saw was a dimly lit ceiling not far above his head, and the gentle, rhythmic sound of machines all around him.

"Welcome back, Jamie," a voice said.

He turned his head. There was Erin, smiling at him. She wasn't wearing her usual, professional attire. Instead, it was an oversized, long sleeved t-shirt, and her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail. She wasn't wearing any make-up. She looked just like back when she still lived at home and would spend every Saturday morning watching cartoons with him even though they both thought they were too old for them.

"Am I in the hospital?" Jamie asked.

"Yep," Erin said, reaching out and taking his hand. "You've been here for a week."

"A week," Jamie echoed. He closed his eyes, trying to remember. "I've been asleep that whole time?"

Erin smiled and shrugged. "Well, you've been on heavy pain medication and sedatives." Her tone softened, "Do you remember what happened to you?"

"Morrison was about to shoot Danny…Randle stopped him, and then I got shot," Jamie summarized. He remembered everything as though it had just happened moments before. As though he closed his eyes to severe pain and fear and opened them to joyous numbness and unnatural peace. He credited the numbness and peacefulness to the medication Erin had referenced.

"Anything before that?" Erin asked. She sounded like she was interrogating a witness or a victim for one of her cases. Maybe that's what it was.

"Yeah, a lot," Jamie said. He felt tired, too tired to relate an entire series of events. He couldn't even grasp at what words he would use to tell the story of Morrison abducting he and Randle, how they escaped, how they tried to prevent the massacre Morrison had promised.

The massacre. The shooting. The gunshots. Jamie gasped, the peaceful bubble he'd been drifting in popped. "Was anyone else hurt?" he asked frantically, gripping Erin's hand harder than he'd intended.

Erin shook her head. "Randle was in the hospital for a couple days with a severe concussion, but he's recovering well. No one else was hurt. Morrison's locked up. He's provided a full confession."

"He wanted to die," Jamie said, but he could barely make the words audible. He suddenly felt exhausted, as though he'd run a hundred marathons. His mind seemed to close off before his eyes did, and he was asleep before he could hear what Erin said in reply.

* * *

It was like a light switch, Erin decided. One moment, Jamie was alert and aware, the next he was gone again, as though he'd never been awake at all. She felt a little guilty she hadn't gone and gathered the others for his first moment of full consciousness; however, she knew that the window had been small, and she might not have returned with them in time to talk to Jamie at all.

"He wanted to die," Jamie had mumbled, and she puzzled over it as his grip on her hand became slack, and his breathing became deep.

Randle had given them the whole story from where it had started with him. He didn't know anything about how Morrison had caught Jamie in the alley, or some of the little details Jamie was bound to have noticed. He had never mentioned Morrison wanting to die.

Erin knelt over Jamie and gave him a kiss on the forehead before going to the waiting room to give her family an update. Her dad was in and out of the hospital constantly, trying to keep the city running as well as being there for his youngest child. Danny was on mandatory leave for beating Morrison, and practically lived in the waiting room. He would take his shifts in Jamie's room, even stealing Erin's and Frank's if they weren't there to claim it. Henry had gone home to be with the kids, though he was always present during school hours. Linda and Erin took turns going to the the Reagan estate to check up on them whenever they could.

In the waiting room now was Danny and Linda. Frank had stepped out to make a phone call. She smiled happily at the couple. "Guess who woke up?"

Danny stood. "He's awake?"

Erin shook her head. "He _was_ awake. We talked for a couple minutes before he fell asleep again."

"What did he say?" Linda asked.

"He remembers everything that happened," Erin said, "He asked if anyone else was hurt, and I told him about Randle." She paused, then added, "He said something about Morrison wanting to die."

"He certainly seemed like he had a death wish," Danny growled.

"Do you want to go sit with him?" Erin asked Danny, "He'll probably be waking up again soon…"

Danny hesitated. "Does he remember how he got shot?" he asked.

"I think so," Erin said.

Danny took a deep breath. "Yeah, I'll go in," he said.

* * *

TBC


	6. SIX

_He had blood on his hands. His brother's blood was literally on his hands. He used the wet wipes the paramedic had given to Jackie, trying to get it off. But his hands shook too hard to get anything done. It just smudged it around._

 _Jackie was driving, watching the road as she snaked through the traffic, following the ambulance._

 _"_ _I shot him," Danny muttered, "I shot my own brother, I shot him…"_

 _Jackie glanced over at him. He kept saying those words. Over and over again, he said them. She didn't know what to do._ _"I'm so sorry, Danny," Jackie said finally._

 _"_ _What if I killed him?" Danny sobbed, "What if I killed him? What am I going to tell Dad? He's going to hate me, Jackie."_

 _"_ _No," Jackie said firmly. "Don't say that, Danny. Don't you dare believe that for even a second, do you hear me?" When he didn't answer, she demanded, "What did I just say, Danny? Tell me what I just said."_

 _"_ _Two sons killed in the line of duty…" Danny said, his voice shook so violently, Jackie could barely understand him, "Two sons killed…"_

 _"_ _Jamie is not dead, Danny. They've got him in that ambulance. They are trained professionals, Danny, they know what they're doing, and they are not going to let Jamie die." It was an empty promise. Of course there was no way to know if Jamie was going to survive this. She'd seen the wound, the dark blood pooled where Jamie had laid on the hard, cold floor. She'd seen plenty of murder victims, plenty of deaths. She knew that Jamie could die. She knew that he could likely already be dead in the back of that ambulance._

 _But her partner, the man with whom she trusted her life every single day, was devastated. She would do anything to take away even a little bit of the pain afflicting him. Even if it meant to lie. "He's not going to die, Danny," she said. "He is stronger than a bullet. He has a long life ahead of him, and he's going to live to see it."_

 _Danny's breathing shuddered, but he seemed to calm ever so slightly. She had eased his pain by taking some of it on herself, because if Jamie didn't survive this, she would have to live with that empty promise._

* * *

Danny liked the room they had moved Jamie to. It was bigger, and it made the machines assisting Jamie seem smaller, less daunting. It was also brighter, less places for shadows to hide and loom. He could sit in the chair by the bedside, look over the paper, and pretend things were almost normal. But nothing was normal. Jamie was in that bed with a hole in his chest. A healing hole, but a hole nonetheless.

The paper was old. From this morning. Danny had already read the sports pages four times. He avoided the obituaries or the news. He didn't need any of that right now. He dropped the paper on the floor and sighed, rubbing his face hard with his hands. Then he looked at Jamie. The youngest Reagan brother had regained some of his color. He looked less like he was on the brink of death's door and more like he was just asleep, which he was, Danny supposed. Now. Now he was just asleep, allowing his body to rest and build itself back up.

It was almost as if Jamie felt Danny's gaze. The face that Danny had only ever seen closed off and asleep for over a week suddenly opened its eyes. "Erin?" Jamie asked, turning to look at the chair where Danny sat.

"Sorry," Danny said, "it's just me."

Jamie smiled. "I don't mind," he said.

"How're you feeling?" Danny asked. It was a cliche question to ask of a bedridden patient, but Danny couldn't think of anything more clever to say.

"I don't know," Jamie said, honestly. He turned his head to look at the ceiling. "It doesn't hurt, if that's what you mean. They must be giving some pretty heavy stuff…"

Neither spoke for a few moments. Jamie, waiting for Danny to bat the conversational ping pong back to him, and Danny wanting to say something he'd been waiting to say for a week. He took a deep breath. "Erin said you remember the shooting."

"Yeah," Jamie agreed.

"So," Danny said, his voice caught, he swallowed, and continued, "you know it was me that shot you."

Jamie was quiet. Danny wondered if maybe he hadn't known. Maybe he remembered being shot, but didn't know where the bullet had come from. Maybe…

"You were aiming at Morrison," Jamie said, "he was going to shoot you. He said he wanted to take out as many cops as he could before he went down. Randle knew that. That's why he tackled Morrison…but you had already pulled the trigger, and I was standing in the wrong place. You didn't miss your target," Jamie turned his head again to look at Danny. Straight in the eye, his gaze firm, clear, "your target moved. That's not your fault. It's not anyone's fault, except Morrison's."

"I almost killed you," Danny whispered. He could feel the tears, knew his brother saw them. But he didn't care about being the tough big brother right now. That wall had crumbled a week ago when the bullet from his gun plowed into his Jamie's chest.

"But you didn't," Jamie said. "And even if I had," Jamie hesitated on the word, "died, my death would have been on Morrison. Another murder on _his_ hands."

"I'm," Danny choked, but Jamie reached out his hand to stop him.

"Don't say it, Danny," he warned, "don't apologize to me."

Danny cried.

* * *

TBC

 _A/N: I am planning on the next chapter being the last...if you feel there are any loose ends that need tying into neat little bows, please leave a comment. I can't promise they'll all be tied (I might leave some things to you awesome people's imaginations), but I would like to clear up any glaring cliff-hangers that I can. Thank you, everyone, for the reviews, follows, and favorites!_

 _'Til the next chapter,_

 _ForgottenPages_


	7. SEVEN

_A/N: Thank you, everyone, for your patience! I am so sorry it took so long to post this final part. I hope it lives up to your expectations! Thanks again for all your follows, reviews, and favorites!_

Jamie put down a red two. "Uno," he said, a smug smirk on his face.

Frank put down a red seven and looked at Danny. His oldest son was staring hard at his abundant handful of cards. Finally, he put down a wild card.

"Blue," Danny said.

Jamie slapped his last card on the pile: a blue one. "Out," he cried triumphantly.

Danny threw his cards down. "Can't we play a grown-up game?" he whined, "Like poker?"

"What's wrong?" Jamie taunted, "Uno too stressful for you?"

Frank grinned and took a drink of his beer. Jamie had been staying at the house for a month now, and it wasn't uncommon for Danny to show up, though he never admitted it was to keep his little brother company. Tonight was Jamie's turn to pick the game, and he chose his childhood favorite.

"No," Danny said defensively, "It's just a stupid game. And I think there should be a rule against giving the same person four draw twos in a row."

"Hey, that's just the way it happened," Jamie said, shrugging.

"And then as soon as I got a draw four wild card in my hand, you reversed the turns so that I couldn't give it to you," Danny vented on. "This game is stupid!"

"Who's up for another round?" Frank asked, gathering in the cards so he could shuffle.

Jamie smiled brightly. It was that same, childish smile he'd throw at Danny when he was a kid. He stood up. "I'm gonna go get a snack," he announced. He walked out of the room, leaving Frank and Danny alone for the first time since Jamie was discharged from the hospital.

"How are you doing, son?" Frank asked.

Danny looked surprised by the question, and answered with a quick, "Fine." When Frank did not look impressed, Danny heaved an exasperated sigh. "What do you want me to say, Dad?"

"You still blame yourself for what happened to Jamie," Frank said.

Danny studied the tabletop. "Of course I do."

"It wasn't your fault, son," Frank said. "There was a whole lot more at play than just you, Jamie, and that bullet. Morrison was the instigator in set of events that led to Jamie being shot. So, if you are looking for someone to blame, he's sitting in a cell right now."

Danny looked up. "I wish it were that easy, Dad. But it isn't. I _know_ that what happened was not not my fault. But what I _feel_ …that gut-wrenching emotion that socked me the moment I saw Jamie fall because of my bullet…that doesn't just go away."

Frank nodded slowly. "I understand," he said.

Danny chuckled humorlessly. "Yeah, well, I wish I did."

Jamie returned before Frank could say anything else. He put a bowl of chips down on the table. "You ready?" he asked, looking that the cards now resting idly in Frank's hand.

Frank smiled and started to deal. Danny groaned, and Jamie laughed.

Life was finally starting to settle back into place in the Reagan family, one little day at a time.

END


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